


same as me

by h0ldthiscat



Category: Better Call Saul (TV)
Genre: F/M, hey kid don't be a lawyer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-16 07:13:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29203398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/h0ldthiscat/pseuds/h0ldthiscat
Summary: She reaches for another slice of pizza. “And what about you? Where do you see yourself at HHM in three years?”Now is as good a moment as any, he figures.
Relationships: Jimmy McGill | Saul Goodman/Kim Wexler
Comments: 11
Kudos: 31





	same as me

As many times as he’s walked past, Jimmy realizes as he stands in the doorway that he’s never actually been inside the doc review room before. The austere filing cabinets give the room the appearance of military-like order, but then there’s Kim, bathed in a glow of light from the singular lamp on the table towards the back of the room. A few balled up pieces of paper and a magnifying glass sit off to her left, flanked by a bankers box. She rubs her neck and takes a drink from a can of diet soda. 

“Did somebody order a pizza?” he calls.

Her head snaps up, brow wrinkled in confusion before she realizes it’s him and her gaze softens. “You know that doesn’t work if you’re actually bringing pizza, right?”

“That’s what you think.” He saunters towards her and sees that she’s temporarily abandoned poring over contracts in favor of something else. “What’s that?” Jimmy asks, gently setting the pizza box down before her.

Kim groans in relief and opens it, immediately taking a slice for herself and eating half of it before she answers. “Performance review.”

“Of who?”

“Myself. Howard makes us do these stupid self-evals.” She tucks a piece of hair behind her ear with her free hand.

“Oh yeah? What kinda stuff they ask you?” Jimmy settles into the chair across from her and takes a piece, picking off the green peppers. 

She reads from the paper. “On a scale of one to five, one being the worst and five being the best, how would you rate your experience at Hamlin Hamlin McGill this calendar year?”

Jimmy chokes on a laugh. “Sounds like a goddamn customer service survey.”

“I’ve been an associate for six months. How much insight does he think I have? Besides, it’s not like he’s going to read this anyway.”

“You don’t think?” Jimmy picks another pepper off.

“No,” Kim scoffs. “He’s gonna give them to his assistant and she’ll file them away in some cabinet and they won’t see the light of day until long after the millennium.”

“Associate Kim’s got a little chip on her shoulder,” Jimmy teases. He wishes he’d thought to bring his own soda, his mouth dry and starting to tingle around the corners with the heat from the crushed red pepper.

“No chip,” Kim says, unfazed. “Just realistic. He’s got better things to do than read--” She squints at the paper, her top lip curling up a little. “--what suggestions I have for improving company morale.”

Jimmy chuckles. “What else is on there?”

Kim presses her lips together as her eyes scan down the page. “Hmm. This one says, _where do you see yourself at HHM in three years?_ ”

“It says that? Don’t these kinds of things usually ask five years?”

She turns the paper around to show him. It’s already littered with her slanted cursive in blue ink, the circles around the numerical scales neat but not identical, her concise sentences cramped in the limited space between bulleted items printed in the standard HHM typeface.

“So?” he asks after a minute. “Where do you see yourself at HHM in three years?”

Kim holds her hands out to her sides. “You’re looking at it.”

“Still stuck down here?” Jimmy asks, incredulous.

“Everybody has to put in the time, Jimmy.”

“Come on, you’ve got to be kidding. Somebody as good as you? You’re a few weeks away from being whisked away to a corner office, I guarantee you that. Diplomas on the walls. A parking spot. The works.”

“A few weeks, huh?” Kim asks, her eyes shining. She reaches for another slice of pizza. “And what about you? Where do you see yourself at HHM in three years?”

Now is as good a moment as any, he figures. “Well, kind of where you were when I started here.”

She huffs out a laugh. “On the doorstep of clinical exhaustion? Questioning every decision I’ve ever made? Sleeping in the backseat of my car because I was too tired to drive home?”

“In law school,” he says, watching her face for a reaction. “L2, probably, since I’m sure it’ll take me some time to figure out the LSAT. But if I pass everything this semester at the community college, I should be able to apply to some stuff for acceptance next fall.” 

Kim’s hand stills, the tip of her pizza slice pointing down towards her wrist. “Jimmy are you—you’re serious?” 

His stomach drops, unable to read her. “I mean. Shit, yeah I’m serious. I wanna be a lawyer.”

“Well that’s—oh, shit.” Kim looks down to her evaluation in front of her. A glob of grease has dropped down from her pizza and right onto the page. 

“Here,” Jimmy mumbles, handing her a napkin from the dwindling stack. 

She takes it and dabs, the corners of her mouth drawing down into a perfectly symmetrical frown as she does her best to minimize the damage. 

“Last week that kid Matt spilled a whole can of pop—er, soda,” Kim muses. “It went everywhere.” She spreads her fingers out wide. “I’ve never seen half these associates move that fast.” She chuckles but she’s not talking to him though. It’s almost like she’s talking to herself. 

“That’s nice to hear,” Jimmy says, smiling. 

“Huh?” Kim looks up, brow wrinkled. 

“Pop. I always thought you were a Midwestern gal.”

Her mouth twists into a smile, pulling towards the left corner. “You always thought, huh?” 

“Well, you’re kind of a closed book. Have to make inferences and whatnot. Use context clues.”

“Is that so?” She drops the soiled napkin on the table and picks up her pizza again, this time taking a bite right away. “I told you where I was from, didn’t I?”

“Told is generous. More like I coerced it outta you.”

“I respect my privacy, that’s all.” Kim’s not defensive about it, just matter-of-fact. _This is how I do things._

“I’d appreciate it if you, uh, respect my privacy too,” Jimmy says, clearing his throat. “About the whole awyer-lay thing.”

Kim is nodding before he even finishes his sentence. “Of course. I get it.”

“Mucho appreciado.”

“Jimmy, this is--I think this is great. You’re gonna…” She leans back in her chair, a smile lifting the corner of her mouth. “You’re gonna go to law school. You’re gonna be a lawyer.”

He tries not to breathe a sigh of relief. “Well I figured if you can do it…”

“How hard can it be?” she hums fondly, swaying back and forth in her rolling chair. 

A comfortable silence settles over them and Jimmy can barely believe she doesn’t have anything else to say on the matter.

“You really--” He clears his throat again, the dryness irritating him. “--you’re not gonna try and talk me out of it?”

Kim looks up at him, brow furrowed. “Why would I? Jimmy, you’d be a great lawyer. You’re smart, you’re passionate, you’ve got more instincts than half of the first year associates in this place.”

“Thanks, Kim.” He takes another bite and finds himself swallowing around the lump rising in his throat.

Kim pushes her performance review off to the side and refocuses on the contract in front of her. “So what did Chuck say when you told him?” 

Jimmy swallows. “Um. I’m not...” 

Kim nods but won’t meet his eyes. “Oh.Yeah that’s--totally.” 

“You think it’s a bad idea,” he says slowly. 

She shakes her head, picking up a highlighter. “He’s your brother. I didn’t mean to--you know how to handle him.”

Silence settles again, but this time it’s brimming with something, with the energy of all the unsaid things between them. She hasn’t asked why he’s here so late, or how he knew she was down in doc review, or why he bought a pizza with toppings he clearly doesn’t like. She hasn’t asked him to come over to her place in weeks, and he doesn’t know if he can stand for her to see his sad little apartment with its tiny window and the stove you have to fiddle with just right for the pilot light to come on. She hasn’t asked why he wants to go to law school but if she does he will say, _mostly for me but also a little for you._

The lines are blurring between the two of them; they’re starting to become one thing in his mind, _Jimmy and Kim_ , and he doesn’t remember when it began. Maybe the moment he felt her body weight against his, pressing down against her couch cushions. Maybe it was when she showed him how to get the Snickers bar out of the vending machine when H3 got stuck. Sometimes it feels like it was before all that, and sometimes he thinks all this scenery and wide open space is getting to him. 

“Do you want some of this?” Kim asks, pointing to her can of soda with the end of her highlighter. “I can feel my teeth vibrating, it’s probably time to stop.”

Jimmy blinks. “Uh. Yeah, thanks.”

She smiles as he finishes the remainder of the can in one gulp. “Oh, and next time,” she says, her voice warm, “you don’t have to get peppers if you don’t like them.”

“Yeah,” Jimmy says with a shrug. He closes one eye and takes aim at the trashcan in the corner. “But you do.”

The can whiffs through the air and falls just short, hitting the outside with a dull metal _clang._

“You doing anything on Friday?” Kim asks.

Jimmy swivels back to face her in his chair. “Uh. No, no. Should probably study some, but…”

“Let’s go to the movies,” she offers. “Extra large popcorn, on me. I owe you one.” 

“Do you?” Jimmy asks.

Kim nods, her hair glowing like little threads of gold in the dim light. “Yeah. Always.”


End file.
